


Just One Lullaby

by EyeInTheDark



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl with a baby again? YES PLEASE!!, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeInTheDark/pseuds/EyeInTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never "simple". Not ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Change of Plans

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters. All I own here is the plot and the OFC :)

* * *

 

It was supposed to be a simple supply run. Nothing major. In and out. Formula, baby food and diapers for Judith. But it turned out to be anything but "simple".

Daryl stopped the motorcycle a few feet away from the wrecked car, allowing Cheyenne to hop off before swinging his leg over the bike himself, instantly reaching for his crossbow.

Taking note of the walker pinned between the two wrecked cars, Daryl edged forward cautiously. Alert to any and all danger that could be lurking about.

"Stay back," he ordered as Cheyenne followed, drawing her hunting knife from the sheath strapped securely at her hip.

Slowly, he approached the cars, firing a bolt into the hissing walker's rotting eye.

Stalking up to the twice-dead creature, Daryl yanked the bolt from it's head, carefully making his way around to the other side of the first vehicle a second later.

Another walker lay inside the car, pinned in place by the seat belt and the crumpled dash. It wasn't really a threat, so he left it to rot.

It was then that he heard the moan. Human, not that of a biter.

Daryl rushed to the passenger side of the mini-van, finding the door almost ripped off it's hinges.

A woman, pale and bleeding heavily, sat in the passenger seat, a huge chunk of metal impaling her torso.

"Please..." the woman begged, voice a mere whisper. "...my baby...Please...take care of my baby..."

Cheyenne was behind him by now, peering over his shoulder at the grisly scene.

Daryl quickly pried the sliding door open while Cheyenne tried to comfort the dying woman, listening patiently to her last requests.

Sure enough, there was a baby. A tiny pink bundle in a laundry basket that had been securely anchored to the back seat.

"Cheyenne," Daryl called her over, awkwardly picking the sleeping bundle up, trying to be as gentle as possible with the tiny human being. She was smaller than Judith, looking far more fragile, and it made him nervous.

The blonde was quickly leaning inside the door, taking the baby from him as he gladly handed it over to her.

"Is she alright?..." the dying woman whispered as Cheyenne came over to show her her baby was fine.

"Not a scratch on her," Cheyenne reassured, holding the bundle up for the woman to see.

"Thank God..." the woman murmured. "There's baby things in-in a backpack...it's in the back...there's...not much, though...Take it with you..."

"It's gonna be okay, ma'am..." Cheyenne tried to comfort her. "We'll take good care of your little one...Like she was our own."

"I-I don't want to do this..." the woman's breath hitched, rattling in her chest for a moment, then she continued. "You have no idea...how hard it is to just...trust total strangers with your baby...but..."

"It's alright," Cheyenne said in a soothing tone. "We understand."

"I'm glad you found us..." the woman was crying now, choking when a drop of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. "Please...tell her I loved her...Her name's Mary...Mine is...was...Sandy..."

"Of course. I promise," Cheyenne whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

"One more thing..." Sandy murmured, taking in a ragged breath. "Don't...don't let me turn...please...Don't let me become one of... _them_..."

Cheyenne bowed her head as the woman's eyes closed, a long breath escaping her lips. She was gone.

Daryl appeared beside her as if on cue, silently drawing his buck knife and handing the backpack to Cheyenne.

Cheyenne moved away from the van to check out the contents of the backpack while he took care of the dead woman, proventing her from turning as she had requested.

"How're we gonna get a baby back to the prison on the bike?" Cheyenne asked when he had finished the deed, wiping his blade in the grass beside the road.

"Walk, I guess," he sighed, shrugging slightly and giving a small gesture across the road. "I can stash the bike 'hind those trees over yonder, it ain't that far back."

Cheyenne nodded, never once questioning his judgement. "Let's get goin' then."

He nodded in agreement, heading over to the motorcycle. He hated leaving it, but really, there wasn't much choice. Not with their new "problem" on hand.

As soon as the bike was stashed in the woods, they started walking. Cheyenne carrying the baby, Daryl shouldering the backpack of baby supplies and his crossbow.

After an hour or so of walking, Daryl quickly realized time was passing a lot faster than their legs could carry them.

"It's gonna be dark soon," the hunter noted, glancing up at the steadily setting sun. "We ain't gonna make it back 'fore nightfall."

"We can't stay out here," Cheyenne pointed out the obvious. "Not with a baby at least."

"There should be a little rest stop just through the trees that'a way," Daryl pointed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "If we can make it there before dark, we can stay in one of the motel rooms."

"Sounds like a plan," Cheyenne said, picking up her pace and falling into step alongside Daryl.

The rest stop was their best bet, so long as it wasn't overrun. They were not about to stay out in the open. If it had been just the two of them, they could have, but with a baby and the chance of it crying and attracting walkers, they needed the safety of a building.

The woods became gloomy as the sun finally sank behind the trees.


	2. Safe and Sound

Twenty minutes later, the tired threesome stumbled into the parking lot of the Bronco Bar and Grill, the Shady Rest Truck Stop Motel a few yards to the right of the dilapidated bar.

The motel appeared to be in much better condition than the bar, thankfully, and Daryl and Cheyenne felt relieved.

Cheyenne waited outside while Daryl made a quick sweep of the bar, searching for any supplies that might come in handy and finding nothing.

Upon his return, the pair along with their precious cargo made ready to go inside the Shady Rest.

"You stay right behind me," Daryl ordered as he slowly opened the front door of the motel, letting it swing open with a loud creak.

Cheyenne nodded obediently, taking the backpack of baby things from him as he raised his crossbow, entering the dimly lit motel cautiously.

Slowly, they made their way inside, Daryl taking point, Cheyenne and the infant taking up the rear as she was told.

Daryl went through each room, thoroughly checking the entire building. There were only 10 motel rooms, the front room, an employee restroom, and a small storage room.

"This one's in the best condition," Daryl stated after blocking up the front door and back exit. He graciously took the bag again and led his charges to room 10. "Window's low enough t' climb out if somethin' goes wrong. Got a good veiw of the parkin' lot."

Cheyenne nodded, sitting down on the lumpy bed and watching as Daryl dropped the bag of supplies on the floor by her feet.

"The baby's probably about ready for a feedin'," Cheyenne said, tone soft as it always was.

Without a word, Daryl withdrew a bottle of water and a can of the formula powder from the bag followed by a baby bottle, placing the items on the bed beside her.

"Thank you," Cheyenne murmured, rocking the baby slightly as he sat down on the floor, back against the side of the bed as he fiddled with one of his crossbow bolts idly.

"Do you mind holdin' her while I fix her bottle?" Cheyenne asked hesitantly.

He looked up, surprise evident in his icy blue orbits, but nodded with a little shrug. "I guess..."

Dropping the bolt, he quickly wiped his hands on his pant legs, extending his arms.

Cheyenne gently layed the squirming bundle in his strong arms, watching how awkward he seemed at first, and yet how quickly he became comfortable again with the tiny being. It made her think of when he had held Judith that first night and she smiled, remembering how proud he had looked when she had stopped crying for him.

Silently, she moved over to the window, the moon and a flashlight her only light sorce. The baby made a fussing noise, and Cheyenne was still smiling as Daryl softly shushed the baby.

"Shhh, shhh...It's okay sweetheart..." he murmured. "Mama's gettin' you somethin' t' eat..."

Cheyenne couldn't help but smile again, amused by the name.

"You wanna feed her, Papa?" she questioned smiling all the more when his face visibly reddened.

"Naw...you go ahead."

After Cheyenne was seated on the floor beside him, he carefully handed the baby over, watching her intently as she fed the little one.

"You know what?" Cheyenne chuckled, looking up at him with dancing baby blue eyes. "I'll bet if anybody we didn't know met us out here, they'd think we _were_ the parents."

"I guess we do kinda look like a lil' family," he admitted with the smallest of smirks, piercing blue eyes fixed on her's for a moment as her cheeks blushed rosey pink. "You're a little young, though."

"I'm 23, Daryl," she said softly, looking up at him through her long dark lashes.

"Really?" he asked, searching her face for any possible trace of a lie.

"Yes, really. How old are you?"

He didn't answer, instead busying himself with picking at the frayed hole in the knee of his cargos.

"I'd guess you to be, oh, mid-to-late-thirties, early-forties...give or take a year or so..."

He gave her a shrug, and she assumed she was right.

"Then you're not _that much_ older than me. It'd be believable."

"Yeah, I'll bet," he smirked again.

When the baby was finally asleep again, Cheyenne slowly stood up, gently placing the infant in the middle of the double bed before lying down herself. The moonlight shining through the window and their flashlight had given them plenty of light, and now, with the moon shining brightly on Daryl's tired face, she could see just how much he needed to rest.

"Come t' bed, Papa..."

"Naw...I'm good," he declined. "Somebody's gotta keep watch."

"Daryl, we're in the middle of nowhere, we haven't seen a walker all day...You need to get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"I'll sleep here then." He motioned to the floor.

"Come on, Daryl. It'll be safer for the baby if you slept on the other side. Protect her more," Cheyenne coaxed.

After a few minutes passed in silence, the pair in a "stubborness-stare- down", Daryl finally gave in, carefully positioning himself on the other side of the bed.

Once he was comfortable on his back, the pillow tossed haphazardly on the stand by the bed and his arm draped over his eyes, he muttered a quiet, "Happy now?"

"Goodnight, Daryl," Cheyenne smiled to herself, still amused at his childishness.

"Night..." he mumbled a second later, already starting to drift off.

Settling down, Cheyenne closed her eyes, falling asleep with a smile still turning up the corners of her mouth.


	3. Happy Endings

"Morning sleeping beauty..." Daryl muttered in a gruff morning voice.

Opening her eyes, Cheyenne refrained from calling him Prince Charming, knowing he wouldn't appreciate it, and instead opting for a quick, "Morning."

"Baby's awake," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

With a sigh, Cheyenne rolled out of bed, ready to get started for the day and get back to the prison.

Thirty minutes later, they were packed up and walking again, heading in the direction of the prison. Toward home.

"The shortcut through the woods," Cheyenne mocked, giving Daryl a silly look "What would Little Red Riding Hood think?"

"She'd probably go runnin' for the hills like a little baby," Daryl smirked. "Never cared for that story too much. Never cared for fairy tales, really."

"Well, in the beginning, they weren't just fairy tales, Daryl," Cheyenne became serious. "They were warnings."

"Yeah, right," Daryl scoffed. "They're just a bunch'a made up bull---"

"It's true!" Cheyenne looked a little hurt. "Back before the Grimm brothers even wrote them, parents told their kids stories like Little Red Riding Hood as a warning."

"A warning for what?" Daryl asked, still looking skeptical.

"Well, for starters, Red Riding Hood represented a virgin girl, and the wolf evil men. Rapists, and murders, that type."

"Really?" Daryl furrowed his brow as if thinking hard on the subject.

"Yes, really."

"I guess you're right," he finally admitted. "I guess I never thought of it like that. Makes sense."

Before Cheyenne could make a reply, Daryl was grabbing her, dragging her and the baby to the ground and pressing them both against a tree.

"What are you doing?!" Cheyenne whisper-shouted at him.

"Shut up."

Peering around the tree, Cheyenne quickly stifled a gasp.

Walkers. Over a dozen of them, stumbling around the clearing, bumping into each other and hissing.

"What do we do?" Cheyenne whispered, hugging the baby close and praying she didn't start crying.

"Get outta here," Daryl muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes, looking down at the baby between them. "Get up, keep as quiet as ya' can. We're gonna try circlin' around them."

As quietly as possible, the pair got up, slipping off into the woods as quietly as they possibly could.

Not even five minutes later, the baby started crying.

"Damnit," Daryl cursed under his breath, digging hurridly in the backpack for a bottle. Anything that would shut the baby up.

"Hush," Cheyenne whispered, trying to muffle the baby's cries by burying the infants face against her chest. "Please, sweety, you're gonna get us killed."

"Shit!" Daryl cried as five walkers stumbled through the trees, headed in their direction. "RUN!!"

And run they did.

Cheyenne clutched the screaming baby close, trying desperately to keep up with Daryl.

After ten minutes of non-stop running, they had to take a quick breather. Leaning against the trees they panted for breath, both of them trying desperately to shush the baby up.

Nothing helped. The infant was too upset.

"C'mon!" Daryl grabbed Cheyenne by the shirt sleeve, yanking her in the right direction as more walkers could be heard nearing their current location. "It ain't much further!"

Fifteen minutes passed, the pair were slowing, exhausted from running, panting desperately for air.

"There it is!" Cheyenne suddenly cried, putting on another burst of speed.

The two raced for the prison, waving and shouting as Rick and Glenn came into view, rushing to the nearest bolthole to let them in.

"Daryl! On your right!' Cheyenne suddenly cried, catching a glimpse of a walker out of the corner of her eye.

The hunter spun, stabbing the biter through the side of the head with ease, stumbling slightly before taking off running again.

The pair broke through the opened bolthole like wild animals, collapsing on the ground inside the safety of the chain link.

"What happened to you two?" Glenn asked breathlessly. "We were so worried!"

"Is that a baby?" Rick asked, eyeing the bundle in Cheyenne's arms.

"Jus'...jus' give us a sec...!" Daryl huffed, flopping back on the grass, his arm thrown over his face.

"C'mon," Rick said, moving to Cheyenne and helping her up. "Let's get you two inside outta the sun."

Glenn quickly helped Daryl up, and the four of them made their way inside.

~*~

Two days after their little adventure, Cheyenne and Daryl took the baby to one of the women from Woodbury. The woman had no children of her own, and was more than willing to take the baby.

"She's so beautiful!" Chrystal cooed over the bundle in Cheyenne's arms.

"Her name's Mary," Cheyenne said after handing the baby over.

"I respect her mother's wishes," Crystal smiled down at the baby in her arms. "And Mary she shall stay!"

"Thank you," Cheyenne smiled.

After a few minutes of just talking with the woman, Daryl and Cheyenne left the cell block and headed outside together.

"I'm gonna kinda miss playin' mama," Cheyenne sighed, looking a little sad.

"I'm sure she'll let ya' babysit any time ya' want, _Mama_ ," Daryl smirked a little, nudging the blonde's shoulder playfully.

"Yes, _Papa_ , I'm sure she will too!" Cheyenne grinned, playfully poking him back.

Before they could stop themselves, the two were playing, running around the prison yard like school children.

Daryl tackled Cheyenne to the ground, tickling her mercilessly as she giggled uncontrollably from beneath him.

"Mercy! Mercy!!" she howled.

"You two okay?" Rick asked, an eyebrow raised in surprise and a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips.

Daryl quickly got off of Cheyenne, helping her up and looking a bit sheepish at the former leader. "We were jus'...we were...ya' know...we were---"

"We were havin' fun! Loosen up, Grimes! All work an' no play leaves Jack a dull boy!!" Cheyenne laughed, pushing Daryl playfully and taking off running again.

Rick chuckled, watching the pair as they ran off in the direction of the parked vehicles.

Everything was alright. Mary had a new mother, and Daryl was finally showing signs of improvement around the rest of the group.

Rick went back to tending his garden, still smiling at the sound of Cheyenne's laughter and Daryl's playful shouts of "C'mere!" in the back ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Daryl was a little out of character at the end, but I don't give a crap! 24 hours until TWD season 5!! YIPPEEEE!!!!


End file.
